The Joys of Witness Protection with Gibbs
by The Fictionist Aura
Summary: ...But I quickly put my hand down as soon as Gibbs turned to glare at me. By the look of things I have a whole hand to lose, just from being friendly. He was a real life scrooge except all year round…and then some." Has OC.
1. Chapter 1

I fidgeted nervously with my straps of my navy blue dress as I sit in NCIS. (hey, that rhymes!) Of course, I had never heard of the place until today, when three agents had come to a murder that I had witnessed mainly because of my grandfather (more on that later) and dragged me here. The official director then told me that the other agencies were too busy to do the witness protection program and that it would be far too risky to move me anyway, so she would chose an agent to take care of me in the building. Naturally, I was hoping the Tony guy that had come who reminded me of an extreme young Hercule Poirot (I have a tendency to compare people to book characters….Agatha Christie is a must read, by the way). He definitely shared my sense of humor but the Arthur Hastings guy (McGee is his name I think) had a cute nerd thing about him. Ziva was the lone woman in the trio, probably once an assassin, reminded me of the Ice Queen of Narnia, with a smile but quite deadly.

And the man that was now arguing with the director (McGonagall from Harry Potter, formal but could be comforting) was Severus Snape (from Harry Potter, yes I'm in a Rowling mood at the moment). Extremely snappy and impatient…his name was Jethro and Gibbs…at the same time…interesting. Before I had time to fully analysis him, two people walked into the room, though the Goth mostly skipped. Definitely Luna Lovegood.

"Oh my god, was the murder awesome or what? I always want to see a murder and you get to go inside Gibbs's house, oh my god you HAVE to take pictures! What does his bed look like, does he sleep in a coffin, you have to talk me and -"

Spoke too soon. Maybe Lucy from Narnia in the first film…non-stop talking.

"Abigail, please leave her alone," an old man that had a grandpa feel to him then turned to me, "I'm terribly sorry, she was just leaving." And he had an accent too. Cute.

"But Ducky?" The woman pouted like a five year old. So Lucy. Or Lucy from I Love Lucy. Either way, total Lucy.

"Let's not test the director's patience, shall we?" With that, he closed the door and sat down across from me with a searching as well as sympathetic look on his face that made me clutch my oversized purse in suspicion. He HAD to be a shrink. Especially since they had an assassin in here. Gotta read that body language.

"Well, hello there, my name is Ducky. Not my real name, of course but there's a story behind that all started in …" And off he went, telling his life story with plenty of details that were not needed. As he talked, I was torn between Dumbledore and Robert Langdon. "But enough about me, what about you?" He then questioned me and watched my body language for thirty minutes before telling me about my "protector" Gibbs. Remember the Snape guy? Yeah, well he gets to guard me…yay. Oh and not only that, but he has some tainted past with the program so I'm told to be careful. Well not directly told but the Robert Dumbledore (still torn) guy said it as undetectably as you can get. I was so on the mark with Snape. Then after ten minutes more with the shrink, Gibbs/Snape took me and put me (almost literally) into his car and drove away from NCIS and to his house, despite the fact that I was suppose to stay in the building. And there was no way I was going to protest. It's Snape….it would be a waste of air.

His house was in the same genre as the rest of the things that he owned – simple, straight to the point, mildly grouchy. And judging by the neighbors and how their houses were sparkling with Christmas lights, he was probably the only person on the whole street that hadn't been in a rush to get in the holiday spirit. Several small children and their mother waved enthusiastically at me as I walked up the plain driveway. As expected, I waved back, not noticing how Gibbs ignored the group. After all, what had I to lose? Already, I have lost my Christmas to some murdering psycho assassin. Besides, the poor mother was obviously happy to see another sign of life in her neighbor's home. But I quickly put my hand down as soon as Gibbs turned to glare at me. By the look of things I have a whole hand to lose, just from being friendly. He was a real life scrooge except all year round…and then some.

Wait to lose my cheer to a Snape scrooge.

Other than the glare, he said nothing to me the rest of the time from entering his door to a silent dinner that I managed to put together with the little content that lay in his refrigerator. And then he sulked back down to the basement, with his giant boat that I caught a quick glimpse of before blotting for the bedroom. Yeah, I'm not fond of woodwork…or any physical work at all, really.

Around ten at night, he (as I like to call him…his personality doesn't even deserve a name in my opinion) came up to the room as I continued to read the Da Vinci Code novel that I always keep in my purse (which is also an endless library). Never know when you might witness a murder and be forced to stay with a NCIS guy (not even the FBI, for crying out loud) that doesn't follow protocol and drags you home with him. Though you might think that this whole situation screams pervert alert, especially with an old guy (though he's fit. He gave me a bruise from making sure I wouldn't run away when I got out of the car…should've run), but it's not. Well, it doesn't _feel_ like it, I should say.

After rummaging through his closet, he tossed me a long men's blue polo. Hurray…pajamas. Before I could get up from my criss cross applesauce position, he had walked into the bathroom and shut the door. I heard the click of the lock only seconds later. Feel the hospitality. Apparently, I was to change in the room. So I did, feeling naked without pants on and headed to the living room with his set of blankets (payback is nice, what can I say?) and settled into the couch with my purse on my stomach.

"Why are you on the couch?" His voice seemed to indicate that I had gone insane when he entered the room.

"Because…I'm going to sleep here." I want to add duh but held my tongue. It was the first time I had bothered to speak to him directly and I was already rejecting it. Maybe I should just go mute, pretend the murder scarred me or something. But then that Ducky dude would be on top of me…better Duck man than -

"You're sleeping with me."

Woah…pervert alert completely zooming up to the ten and over mark.

He must have seen the look on my face, because instantly he corrected himself. "Not like that, just in the same bed."

Like that was supposed to ease my growing panic. There was no way I was going to sleep in the same bed as a stranger…especially of the opposite sex, especially when it was Scrooge!

And that when he began to come towards me, almost as if he was going to grab my wrists and –

Oh hell no.

:) Reviews please. If I get enough, I'll continue.


	2. Chapter 2

And that is how I found myself in bed with _him _and a huge red mark (that later turned into a bruise) on my upper arm. Before you go all "omg-did-he touch-you-in-bed", the answer is no, not like that (yet). He draped his left arm over my waist while I laid there (on my right side) with my back to him. It took _forever _to go to sleep with his annoying breathing on me but hey, I lived and that's what counts, right?

When I woke up the next morning, the first thing I thought was "Crap, I had whiskey again" but then I noticed the arm and my eyes popped out all the way out. I went and got myself married, oh crap crap _crap_. Completely freaking out now, I began to wiggle out of his grasp only to have it pull me closer and turn me face up to the ceiling. And that's when _he _started cuddling against the top of my head, his left hand moving under me. By now, I remembered where I was and relaxed…a little.

"Shannon," he murmured. I held my breath. _Please, please wake up._ "Shannon," he repeated, kissing the top of my head in his sleep. Yes, kissing…it was pleasant yet so, so wrong. "So…beautiful." His left hand was reaching below my waist now…and lower …and lowe - O.o _ Oh no…no…somebody help me! _

Plucking up as much courage as a person can in a finger, I gently poked him in the chest. The fingers had stopped traveling but the mouth (and nose) continued to nuzzle my hair. "Jethro?" I said in a stage whisper that would have done my high school drama teacher proud. More nuzzling. "Gibbs?" I poked him again. And I am happy to report that the nuzzling stopped. "Hmm?" He sounded half – asleep.

I poked him again before saying in the most polite tone I could muster, "Could you please remove your hand from my bottom?" That certainly got him up. He pulled away (finally), sat up and stared at me from across the bed for a while. I sat up and waved at him after two minutes. "Well?" I frowned, pulling at the hem of the polo as I talked (no way Jose was I making eye contact). "What's for breakfast?" Yes, indeed, like any other normal girl would do, I did not attack the man and scream rape. I just ignored it.

He grunted slightly. "Denny's"

Great…field trip.

Yes, I know, short but I just HAD to end it there :) Don't you love me?


	3. Chapter 3

"Denny's" I repeated the name, no doubt sounding like an illegal alien. We all know what Denny' s is. A bad version of IHOP with an even worse color scheme. I mean seriously…red, yellow and green?

He grunted again, and turned away to start digging through his dresser.

"Umm," I paused. "I hate to burst your Denny's bubble but I don't have anything decent to wear besides this polo and unless you want me to be arrested for indecent exposure –"

"Wear it." He threw a bundle of cloth at me before grabbing his own bundle and walking into the bathroom. The water started running.

Horrified at the prospect of wearing men's clothing, I quickly headed for the bathroom that I noticed during the struggle the previous night. I gasped, staring at the ugly bruise suspiciously shaped like a hand on the top of my arm. If I walked around with this, maybe someone might arrest him for domestic abuse. Then I took a well – deserved shower.

After drying myself off, I frowned at the bundle of cloth seated on the toilet. "It can't be too bad." I carefully pulled at something like looked like a collar. And it unfolded to reveal a very fancy looking long sleeve dress. Yes, dress. I put it on; a very snug fit and walked out of the bathroom wondering aloud. "He might be a cross dresser…"

"I'm not." I jumped and stared at him as his eyes sweep over my figure. I pulled at the purple skirt self – consciously.

"Where did you get the dress then?" I asked, headed for the couch, where I had left my shoes from the day before.

"It's my wife's." Short answers were never a good sign. I slipped on my shoes.

"Where is she?"

"Dead."

Oh dear, one word answer. The Snape character sewn into this guy was uncanny.

I immediately back – pedaled, facing him and trying my best to hold eye contact without turning into stone. "Shannon? I'm so sorry I-

"How do you know her?" He snapped, ignoring my apology like it was some buzzing fly in his face.

"I umm…you talk…in your sleep." Awkward silence.

He nodded, more calm than before. Taking my arm with the strength that suggested I was indeed being arrested for indecent exposure, he proceeded to drag me to his car.

A/N – The link to the picture of the dress is on my profile.


	4. Chapter 4

By the time we arrived at Dennys, I had concluded that you never, ever get this guy mad or frustrated, whatever the feeling he was having before he was going to take you anywhere in a car. My stomach was at my throat and I do not exaggerate when I say I rushed out of the car as soon as he parked.

"Ground!" I screamed, running to the pavement and getting on my knees to fake kiss it. "Blessed unmoving ground under me! Thank you!"

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his shoes walking toward me. I considered my options. Number one, let him shove me into Dennys. Number two, pretend to walk to Dennys with him behind me and then blot for the bus stop, screaming bloody murder. Number three, run to Dennys. Number four, walk to Dennys. Number five, wait for him to catch up and give me a second bruise. Technically Number one and five were the same. I just liked to think that I had more options.

And believe it or not, all that was thought in under two seconds. Eventually I choose number four, deciding that I would make a run for the bus when we left. Best to let him think that I planned on behaving.

I know, I know. You're thinking, why would she want to escape her almighty "protector"? Well, I'll tell you. I have no wish to testify against my grandfather and his men. Number one (yes, currently in a listing mood), he's family. Number two, he's got money (and is probably going to die some time within my life, my very money – less life). Number three, he would have me killed if he even heard of me testifying. Number four, I value my life. That's nice and logical, ain't it?

So, I walked to Denny's, trying my best to ignore the angry man behind. It was a long walk too, considering that we, excuse me, _he_ had parked fives stores down from the ugly restaurant.

Around the fourth store, I could feel someone staring at me. Not just staring but staring at my butt. Don't ask me how, it's just in me. I hesitantly turned my head over my shoulder to see _him_ walking side by side with the guy I had seen earlier, the Tony guy, the very hot Tony. Yep, he was so busy staring at my moving bottom, he didn't notice that I noticed him.

Whatever. He was hot. Hot men get checks in my little black book, that's for sure.

I pushed open the door to Dennys and waited for them to catch up. Tony mumbled a weak thanks, eyes on the ground. Maybe he did notice.

I felt a rough hand wrap around my wrist forcefully and sighed but didn't fight. Stupid Snape.

The waiting for a table was more than a little awkward. _He_ made sure that I was sandwiched between the two of them. I was pretty sure that the term personal bubble had no meaning to him.

The only time it got interesting was when Tony started asking me questions.

"So…seen any good movies lately?"

"No, not really. All the things out have been horror movies and I can never see those with a guy with me. I always grip at the person next to me." I laughed quietly. Teasing him was fun.

"Really? Maybe we should take out to see one after th -" He had been smacked on the head before he could continue. I blushed and tried not to laugh. Gibbs (I'm getting tired of calling him _him_) had reached behind me to hit him. "Sorry, boss."

I couldn't help it. I let out a quiet giggle before reaching with my fork for a pepper on Gibbs' plate (he had insisted on me not ordering anything) just he reached for the same pepper. Crap. I immediately moved my fork for a cube of potato and popped it in my mouth quickly.

I could feel his eyes on me but I ignored them, turning to my left (yes, I was sandwiched again) to Tony. He was digging into his order, same as Gibbs, a giant breakfast burrito. Just to see how he would react, I took a stray piece of steak from his plate. He remained oblivious.

Suddenly I felt something brush up against my right thigh and turned to find Gibbs placing a water bottle in my hand. I sighed. I bet he did it on purpose. I mumble a soft thanks and drank silently. He watched me as I did so, eyes filled with an emotion I couldn't identify. I soon as I finish with my sip, he took it back, shoving it somewhere in the deep contains of his coat.

So over protective.

"Umm boss. The director said that she wanted you and…umm, yeah to return to the building. She says it would be easier for security." Crap, I only had one more chance to run. Acting nonchalantly, I glanced up the nearest window. No bus yet.

Tony then continued to wolf down his breakfast, completely unaware of me or his boss. My stomach rumbled.

"You should eat." It was Gibbs…again. Why couldn't he be the one that ate like mad?

I picked up my fork and had another piece of potato, trying not to be too annoyed by that fact that the pepper that I had wanted earlier was still there. Don't you hate that? When the last biscuit is on the table and both of you are like 'no, it's all yours' and it ends up going to the dog or something like that. Yeah.

"More," he ordered. Taking his fork, he pushed some of the burrito remains toward me. The pepper remained on his side.

I obeyed, finishing my side as he did his. I tried not to lean in too much, afraid of annoying him again. Much to my annoyance, he left that evil little pepper for last. I had already finished my share, Tony was still eating and all he had left was that measly little green pepper. But he didn't eat it. He held his fork but made no move to eat it. I hesitated.

I was hungry. These agents ate way too much and there was that pepper, staring at me.

"You can have it." His voice had a hidden smile in it. I said nothing as I popped in my mouth. I stole a glance out the window as he took a sip of his coffee. A bus had just pulled in.

Time for more listing. I had some options as to how to get to the bus. Number one, go to the bathroom and hope that they don't follow me, then run for the bus. Number two, wait until Tony finishes eating and hope that Gibbs doesn't grab me as we leave. Number three…well there wasn't really anything else I could think of. I already had money since I had pick pocketed Tony as we sat down. His wallet was stuffed in my bra.

I had to choose and since I didn't know how long the bus would stay there nor how long it would take Tony to eat (though he was going pretty fast right now), I decided to go for number one.

I forced myself to blush and glanced at Tony. He was close to finishing but stopped when he saw my expression. "Something wrong?"

"I need to go to the restroom," I murmured softly, trying to look as innocent as possible.

"Can you wait?" Gibbs snapped, hand wrapped around my wrist.

I forced myself to look at him and blush. I shook my head violently.

Tony was already moving aside for me to pass. I tried to get up but Gibbs' grip tightened and he looked directly into my eyes. "Are you sure?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

He let me go and I headed for the bathroom, scotch – free for now.


	5. Chapter 5

I turned the corner to see the two bathrooms facing me. Not even a family bathroom. Disgusting.

However, I wasn't there to criticize the restaurant, I was there to get out of it. The front door was out of the question. I couldn't get passed paying and even if Tony had enough money in his wallet (which he did), the register was in full view of their table. That left me with the back door. Which meant I would have to go into the kitchen and magically get pass all the employees.

Did I mention how much I hate Dennys?

Stuffing the wallet back in my bra, I pulled up the shirt of my dress so my knees were showing and walked into the kitchen praying that there were some men on duty. No one noticed me as I came in, everyone too busy cooking for holiday happy customers to nothing much of anything. I quickly walked toward the back door on the left, picking up a half full garbage can on my way, just in case they noticed me, I would make some excuse. Just as I stepped out and was shutting the door, I heard a voice inside said, "Why is the door open?"

Needless to say, I dropped the garbage and sprinted for the bus stop, hand digging in my bra for the wallet. When I reached it, the bus driver was about to leave. "Wait!" I screeched. Behind me, I could make out a faint yell from inside Dennys. I jumped in the bus and handed the driver a ten. "Hit the gas, I'm a federal agent!" I showed him Tony's badge but not his id.

I heard the burst of the Dennys door being slammed open but didn't look. The driver had hit the accelerator as soon as I told him and we were several yards ahead. Five minutes later, with me still standing next to the bus driver, I saw Gibb's car speeding toward the bus from behind.

"You need to go faster." I ordered the bus driver.

"Ma'am I can only go -"

"I don't care!" I snapped. "Go!" I jammed my foot on top of his. Some people in the bus screamed but I was beyond caring. I needed to get somewhere I could jack someone's car. The badge would be the key to it. Well, that and a stupid person as the owner.

Gibb's car was going at sixty, soon to be seventy. And the bus, thanks to my foot, was going at seventy, soon to be eighty.

I suddenly heard sirens. There was a police car behind Gibbs. Crap.

"Signal a left and make a right!" I shouted at the driver. He obeyed, forcing me to hold on to a pole as the bus lurched at the sharp right.

I stared at the back window. Gibbs and the police had lost ground and two cars were now in front of them. I turned to look ahead at the next intersection. Excellent. There was a huge shopping mall coming up. I could just get lost in there for a while, jack a car in the parking lot as soon as I was sure the coast was clear and drive to the airport, after calling my grandfather to ask for a plane ticket to France, and a ride to his estate in Paris.

"Turn in the mall bus stop." Once again, he obeyed, sweat beading down his face. Turning to the people on board, I addressed them. "Who is going to the mall?" Seven people raised their hands. I nodded. Good.

One of the cars behind the bus followed the bus into the mall lot, stalling Gibbs a bit more. At least I thought so until I saw the car doors open and the two men come out with their guns drawn.

"Stop and open the doors! We are STOPPING!" My voice boomed, causing a baby to cry. I rushed out of the bus with more than seven people, apparently some people were too scared to stay on board. Fine. Whatever. I just needed to get in the mall.

"Stop! Federal agents!" I heard Tony shout. I grinned as the people continued to run. Obviously, their opinion of federal agents had changed. "I said stop!" That time it was Gibbs. Wow…someone was angry.

As soon as I entered the air – conditioned mall, I rushed to the nearest "big" store, which was Macys and dug the wallet out of my bra. I was going to need a new outfit and either a haircut or dyed hair…or both.


	6. Chapter 6

I had decided on a wig after browsing through the junior section for something to wear. I had decided to become a goth Russian chick. The best way to stay invisible was to be visible. At least, that's what my sister would have told me.

I had seen the nerdy agent come in the store five minutes after I had from my hiding place in the junior section. He had his gun drawn but I figured he couldn't use it. They needed me alive for testifying and no doubt, the interrogation that was to follow.

He kinda reminded me of those fluff characters they have in books. You know, those characters that are just so perfect and understanding and so not…violent or as Anne of Green Gables will say, a "kindred spirit". In Harry Potter, it was Remus Lupin/Dumbledore, Twilight Carlisle Cullen, Pendragon Series, Uncle Press, Chronicles of Narnia Susan, Anne of Green Gables too many to name, Unfortunate Series of Events was that stupid judge…something with an S…Inkheart Series was Mo, Immortal Series of Nicholas Flamel, Flamel, Da Vinci Code, the grandfather, To Kill a Mockingbird, Atticus Finch (Gregory Peck's voice is chocolate to the ears and yes I did quote the Da Vinci Code) you get the point. There is always a fluff.

And I wasn't afraid of some fluff…even with a gun.

AN – It's short, I know but I wanted to put this bit in without disrupting the story plot so I kinda stuck it in a separate chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

To be honest, I wasn't expecting to get to France, though I was hoping to, I figured that a phone call was enough for my grandfather not to kill me and send me a good lawyer for the lawsuit that was to follow. Was to follow, was to follow, blah blah blah. I still needed to get to that stupid phone to place a call and I needed to look different.

My hands found some black cargo pants on clearance and I grabbed them, the baggier I looked, the better. I needed now was a tight black top. I continued to rummage through the rack, passing some bright pink tights with disgust until I spotted a Happy Bunny black t-shirt with the words "Smoking – Just pay for the lung disease and keep the yellow teeth as a free gift". So true. I should buy one for my mom, she would love it.

"Excuse me?" I popped my head out off the rack to see Fluff Man waving like a maniac to the sales clerk a couple yards away. Guess I have to find another check out counter. I fast tip toed out of the junior section and into the misses. And then from the misses to the bored looking clerk man picking at his fingernails.

I dumped my two items on the counter and checked the wallet to make sure that I hadn't dropped any cash. Ah, good, everything there.

"Would you like to open a Macy's charge card?"

I looked up from the sea of green money to see the clerk talking to me. He had already ringed up the clothes and had his index finger hovering over a button on the register.

"No thank you." I breathed.

"Are you sure? You could save up to ten to –"

"No that's fine. What's my total?" I hate when they bug you about it.

"Forty four dollars and seventy – six cents."

"For _that_?" I gestured toward the bundle of black that he was stuffing in a bag.

"Are you leaving it?" He asked in a bored tone. Obviously these people don't understand the definition of "clearance".

"No," I half grumbled as I handed him a fifty. I nervously fingered the bag handle as he counted my change. I could hear the nerdy agent over at the juniors' section, demanding to talk to the manager.

"Your change is –"

"Thanks!" I ran off before he could tell me the number. And then I back – pedaled back.

"Hey, do you know any good wig stores in this mall?"

If he thought the question was strange, he hid it well.

"Hot Topic is the only store I know –"

"Ok, thanks, again." I dashed out of Macys and headed for Hot Topic, which I had gotten a glimpse of when I head first entered the mall, four stores to the left of Macys. The entire inside of the place was black and unidentified techno music was slowly but surely killing my eardrums.

"May I help you?" A girl I strongly suspected hadn't graduated from high school yet appeared to my left. She was looking at my Macys bag with great dislike.

"I need a wig." Wow, weirdest sentence to ever leave my mouth.

Her mouth twisted slightly as she walked me over to a rack of wigs. "We currently have five different wigs in stock. There is our short hair rainbow wig, Manic Panic Baby Jane Platinum Bombshell Curly wig, Manic Panic Black Cleopatra wig, Manic Panic Violet Bob wig, and Manic Panic Atomic Turquoise Cleopatra wig."

I stared at the rainbow wig for a while. Yes, it was very tempting but not worth it. "I'll have one of the black and one of the turquoise, please." I handed her the one hundred bill from Tony's wallet before asking, "Could I use your changing rooms for a sec?"

"Sure." She was eying the bill in her hand with greed.

I changed out of the dress that Gibbs have provided and into the Macys over – priced clothes and tied my hair in a bun for the wig. A girl always keeps a hair tie handy.

I had ditched the Macy's bag and was holding the dress as I walked out of the changing room, frowning. It was such a good dress and it would be considered a fashion crime to leave it in this dump of a store. I noticed a small purse section and my frown deepened. The only bag that seemed big enough to hold the dress was a fuchsia pink purse with black leather around the edge. A pink feather was waving from the right side of it. And it was almost fifty bucks.

I went over the counter and the girl jumped a bit at my new outfit but made no comment.

"I would like to buy this with the change." She nodded and began to punch a number into the register. Just as she began to reach for a single, I spoke again.

"You can keep the change if you help me put on the black wig." It's hard to put on wigs by yourself…at least for me it is.

After an odd three minutes of hair tugging, I was an official Goth. I thanked the girl and stuffed the wallet and extra wig in my _lovely_ new purse.

Walking out into the mall once more, I headed for the pay phone sign dragging next to a store called Wet Seal…weird store names these days.

Thankfully, Tony had lots of quarters and after dialing my grandfather's American office number, I heard shouting coming from inside a store nearby.

"I don't care what your policy is, I need to search every one of your customer's under the order of a federal agency!" Gibbs' voice made me jump a bit. If he caught…I was French toast on a chopstick.

"Hello?"

"Hello, could you please patch me up to Mr. Marcel Savard's office in France? Tell him that his favorite granddaughter needs his help."

"As you wish, ma'am. One moment please." Some weird foreign music was played as he sent my connection through.

Two minutes passed before I heard a sickly familiar voice say, "Hello?"

"Hi," I drummed my fingers on the top of the pay phone out of habit. Whenever I heard his voice, I felt as though I needed to move something, to keep me from having to listen.

"What do you need, dear?"

"I need a lawyer… or maybe a flight to France, so I could be with you. There are these police people after me, I think they think I witnessed this guy's murder which I did, I mean I saw the guy that shot him and they are following me and I ran and please help me…" I talk fast until stress.

"Why would you run away from them if you did nothing wrong?" His calm logic relaxed me a bit.

"Because…it was Holzman. And don't lie and say it wasn't, I should know what my godfather looks like. I thought that you probably sent him here to kill that marine and then when they found out our connection, they would think I was part of it. I really need your help, I don't want to testify against him or you." My voice shook a little at the last word. During my speech, my grandfather had been making soft cooing sounds to calm me down. For the first time, it didn't work.

"What agency is attacking my young little kitten?" He murmured, causing me to blush despite of the fact that I knew he didn't mean it.

"NCIS in D.C.. Some guy named Gibbs is in charge and…" I paused, thinking whether or not to tell a small little lie to get my grandfather to send my lawyer faster. "He made me come home with him." I fake - whimpered out and then heard a bang on the other end.

"There will be two lawyers under your name talking to their director in thirty minutes!" He shouted some French to someone in the background before turning back to his phone.

"Don't you worry your head about all those American laws, you run to the airport and I will be there in a couple of hours. If you get caught, I promise you, I will come and get you myself." I stifled a gulp. Was it me or did he stress the words "get you"?

"Ok," I made my voice sound scared on purpose and hung up.

I started to walk toward the Macys exit that lead out to the street. Just as I was passing Victoria's Secret, I heard Gibbs' voice again from a different store's entrance. "Did you search all the stores?"

"Yes, boss. No one we talked to has seen here beside the Macys guy."

"I think she's gone," said a female voice.

Trying not to scream with triumph, I slipped into Victoria's Secret with new confidence. All I would have to do wait until all the agents left and catch a bus to the airport.

I had spent ten minutes looking at bras when I noticed that a man had walked into the store. Not just any man, but a man with silver hair, bright blue eyes and a hat with the letters "NCIS" on the front. And he was scanning the room with his eyes. Looking for me.

AN- :) Reviews are love!


	8. Chapter 8

I watched anxiously as Gibbs walked up to the cash register clerk and flashed him his badge and a small picture hidden from my view.

I needed to get out here fast. I noticed a teen girl who obviously was buying her first bra frowning at the clearance rack in confusion. She had all black on and could easily pass as my sister while I was in disguise. The wig was bugging me but I tried not to show it as I walked up to her and smiled down at her.

"Hey, what's your name?"

Her eyes narrowed a bit before she decided that I wasn't some weird kidnapper. "Sarah."

"Need some help?" I glanced at the rack she had been fumbling through.

"Yeah…"

"Where's your mom?" I asked her as I guided her toward a more appropriate (but still clearance) rack.

"Shopping…I kinda ditched her."

"Ah," I nodded understandingly. "So, do you know your size?"

"Umm…"

"That a no?"

"36A…"

I rummaged a bit for an A and to my surprise found three ones in her size. I chattered with her about colors and such for a while until I felt a hand gently wrap around my right hand from behind. Sarah was staring at the owner of the hand in shock so I looked down at it instead of the person's face. It was aged, worn from handy work, most likely woodwork on that giant boat of his…very manly.

"Here," I addressed Sarah, ignoring the breathing that was currently going down my neck, "these should fit you fine just don't forget to stuff them in your purse ok?"

She nodded, eyes back on me. "Thanks." She power – walked to the register.

The hand remained wrapped around mine. I hesitated before speaking to it…ok to the owner of the hand.

"It's not what you think."

"You a mind reader or something?" He was talking softly in my right ear, the grip on my hand firm now.

"No. You don't understand. If I testify, I'm dead within the next week." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a group of three NCIS agents walk in. The fluff ball that I saw earlier stayed at the door.

"I promise you nothing will happen to you if you come to NCIS with me now." His iron grip was now on my arm.

I paused for a while. "Maybe…" I trailed off and waited for his grip to slacken. It did.

"Not!" Elbowing his ribs, I shoved the clearance rack down on him. Two arms wrapping around my middle and arms from the behind and I heard a male voice say, "Got her, boss."

I kicked him in the groin and the forehead and when he released me (crying like a girl might I add), ran for the exit. The ice lady, or whatever her name is, she came spinning at me, full assassin mode. It was pretty scary but definitely more of a challenge than the man. She gave out plenty of battle cries but I managed to dislocate her shoulder. I shoved a rack at her stomach, sending her tumbling to the floor in a sea of C cups.

By the time I had reached the exit, I had grabbed a handful of bras though the chaos of screaming bra shoppers (because you never know when you need a bra!). Waiting for me with a gun, the fluff ball tilted his head slightly before clearly saying, "Hands up! Don't move!"

I chuckled. "Well, which will I do?"

He paused and then turned beet red. I laughed again before glancing behind me. I could Gibbs' arms climbing out of the pile of bras I had left him in. The other two agents were beat.

"Hands up!" I turned back to the fluff and paused, hands still at my sides, filled with bras. "I said –"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard ya." I began to raise my hands up and then kicked the gun out of his hand. He started toward me but I flicked an open bra at him like a whip. The wire clasp hit him in the eye and he fell on one knee, cupping his face.

I didn't have time to look behind me. I ran out of the store and headed for the parking lot. I could hear heavy footsteps behind me but I already knew who it was. I ran faster.

Outside of the mall, I began to weave through the parked cars, ducking and changing directions. I thought I had a chance of making it.

I was wrong.

AN – Sorry for the long wait but I hope you liked it :)


	9. Chapter 9

Warning – Extreme fluff coming up soon

Shuffling around a parking lot hunchback is not fun I repeat not fun. But it was the only escape from…well you know. I could hear him attempting to be sneaky as he chased me. There were a couple times when he lost me and I broke into a sprint but soon enough he would come back. He didn't yell like he did with all the bus people and or his agents he just was quietly hunting me down. How considerate of him.

When I could see him, I would throw bras at him (I swear I got two to land on his head) and temporarily blind him so I could gain ground. But I was running out of bras and energy and my heavy panting was giving away my position. But what I lack in logic and general attractiveness I make up in determination. I ran with my legs begging for mercy until he tackled me from behind and I landed right shoulder first into the blacktop with a sickening crack. Did I mention he was on top of me?

Perhaps you thought of me as a tough person and I would like to think that I am but I knew the moment he caught me I was as good as dead. My grandfather would send his men maybe even my own godfather to kill me and it was like my life flashed before my eyes including some of my haunting childhood memories. That and with my weight and his on top of my previously injured shoulder it had broke and the pain was excruciating. I screamed.

I screeched and shook as Gibbs held me face to the ground. It wasn't until I began to sob that he gently flipped me over, looking concerned. He said nothing and ignored my curses and insults as he eyed my misshapen shoulder under the black of my t-shirt. Sitting on my stomach he unzipped his black jacket and pulled out a Swish Army knife. I immediately fell silent, eyes staring at the knife and my mind flashing back to my childhood. That's when I lost it. I was under the delusion that Gibbs was going to stab me but not just me but child me…...more on that later.

As the knife closed in, I began to whimper and mutter a Hail Mary. I felt its cold touch against the base of my neck, closed my eyes and said amen, waiting for the kill.

Instead, I heard fabric being cut and opened my eyes to see him cutting away at my t-shirt and exposing my shoulder. I don't know how but the bone looked like it was coming out of my skin and I was bleeding profusely. I might as well say now that I was out of my mind in pain and an emotional, delusional train wreck. I couldn't even think straight and it was only after the injury that I could recall all of these details.

By now he was looking at the wound in a frustrated way as if he stared at it long enough, it might go away. I, on the other hand, was now under the impression that he was going to cut my shirt open and molest me (like I said, messed up childhood).

"Don't do it please," I rasped out, my voice tired from screaming.

"Do what?" He raised a confused eyebrow.

"Touch me, that's all you men do, touch me. You never leave me alone, LEAVE ME ALONE!" I began to bawl once more, utterly out of it.

He gave me this odd look and quickly pulled out his cell and dialed 911. I could hear him talking to the operator and I started to scream rape in hopes that they would hear me. Gibbs covered my mouth with his free hand and gave my mouth a gentle squeeze.

"Yes, she's in critical condition and delusional. We need an ambulance, her shoulder's bleeding out." He hung up and stuffed his cell back into his jacket before uncovering my mouth.

"Please don't kill me," I whimpered. "I don't wanna die, no I don't no NO!" I was dry sobbing now, my entire body shaking underneath him.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he murmured. His eyes were softened in pity but I was too crazed to notice.

"No, that's what you all say. All you men and your women and and-"

"Shhhhh," he spoke like he was rocking a baby to sleep. His right hand was rubbing the top of my head and the left was reaching into his jacket. He pulled out the water bottle from Dennys (it felt like such a long time ago) and slowly reached for the piece of my t-shirt he cut off. Leaving my head alone, he used both hands to pour some water on it and turned back to me. I could hear an ambulance in the distance and male footsteps coming in our direction. I tried to turn my head to see who it was but Gibbs stopped me by gingerly pressing the wet cloth on my wound. I yelled in agony.

"Boss, Ziva's directing the ambulance here, are you ok?" It was Tony.

"I'm fine DiNozzo. Help me here, will you?"

Tony blinked.

My eyes widened. "No, no touch, don't touch." I tried to move away.

"Shhhh, no one's going to hurt you. I need to stop the bleeding ok? Shhh." Gibbs pressed on the cloth while DiNozzo stared at me (or maybe it was Gibbs) in confused horror.

"Close your mouth and hold her down." Tony did so, reaching over to touch me in caution.

I heard the ice queen's voice in the distance but focused in on the men near me. Tony was kneeling over me, pinning my wrists to the ground (I was still shaking violently) and Gibbs had moved from my stomach and was sitting on the ground, his back leaning on a car. He carefully pulled my head into his lap and pressed firmly on the wound until the ambulance arrived. The last thing I remember was being transported into a cot and holding an aged, worn hand, probably from all the woodwork he had done down in his dungeon of a basement.

AN: This is sort of the climax chapter, the point in the story that could have changed everything. I'm not in total love with the finished product but I wanted to post it this week so I hope you liked it. If reviews come in with negative response I may, I repeat, may consider a redo.

More secrets from her past will be revealed in the next chapter and reviews always encourage me to write!


	10. Chapter 10

AN: All Medical and psychological ideas/theories presented are not professional

"Jethro, I know you're angry about this but starving yourself and using this poor girl's stomach as a pillow every night is not helping you at all!"

"I hurt her, Duck," His voice sounded his age for the first time. "I'm supposed to be protecting her and I almost ripped her arm off."

"How were you supposed to know that she had an old breakage on her right shoulder that would literally crumple her shoulder to bits if fallen on? You did the right thing. You stopped the bleeding; there was nothing more you could do."

My eyes were too heavy to open but my ears were in perfect order. Using my other senses I concluded that I was in a hospital, naked underneath one of those eyesore paper dresses, lying down on a rigid bed with a needle or two in both arms. I still had the wig on (it was itchy) and someone was holding my hand.

"She's in witness protection and in a hospital!"

"Because she ran away, Jethro! You had good cause from hunting her down."

"She looked like Abby when she was lying there. First Abby then Kelly. And she was screaming for me not to touch her."

"She was reliving her childhood memories, traumatic things that she shoved into her subconscious. The pain brought them back to the surface; it was like time travel in her mind. Based on what you told me, she may have been five to ten when the abuse occurred. A child in an adult body with a man on top of her, Jethro the poor thing thought she was in for another beating of such."

I felt someone squish my hand and a soft pair of footsteps sounded near Ducky.

"Excuse me but visiting hours are over." A nurse's crisp voice chirped like a bluejay.

"Yes, yes, of course. Well I'd better get going. And Jethro, do eat your dinner; it's your favorite Chinese restaurant's chow mien with chopsticks."

"Ok, Dad." Gibbs let out a soft chuckle. The nurse left, not bothering to ask him to leave so I guessed he must have been a regular.

Come to think of it, I was hungry and if Gibbs wasn't going to eat those noodles, well no sense in wasting them.

Time to get up then.

I opened my eyes slowly and the first thing I saw was Gibbs/Snape. Yes I'm calling him Snape now though in reality he's more like a Dustfinger from Inkheart but Snape is just more fun and insulting to say. Anyways, I'm calling him Snape now because he had gotten skinnier and paler from the last time I had seen him. I'm happy to report that his nose was normal, if not a bit pink. I'm sensing a possible cold.

"Hi." He nodded and pulled his hand away from mine. It embarrassed me that I wanted him to grasp it again.

"How long was I out?"

"A few days." He was studying my facial expression.

Suddenly I remembered my grandfather's threat about two lawyers at his director's office and gasped. If he found out that I was injured he would be more than angry. Turning my attention back to Gibbs, I pretended my gasp had to do with my hair and asked him if he would mind taking off my wig for me seeing as my arms are filled with needles and all.

He remained mute as he got out of his chair and slipped one of his hands underneath the wig. It felt strangely nice considering the cold, no doubt bleached bed was freezing my skin off. There was a small rustle and all of my hair came loose. Without asking, he began to run his fingers through it to get all the tangles out. I closed my eyes.

"Thanks." I rasped out after he was done.

He nodded again (I wonder if he had temporarily lost his voice after seeing me awake) and sat back down in silence. I hesitated.

"Listen, I'm sorry about this whole thinking-you-were-going-to-rape-me thing I mean yes you do have those fundamental properties of a rapist like the walk and having no friends and staying home in your dark basement…"

His eyes narrowed.

"So I'm hoping that we can forget about all of those until the day we both get to the pearly gates of heaven or rather when I get there seeing as you clearly won't –" I paused, hoping to get him to talk.

Gibbs swatted the side of my arm lightly and I barked out a laugh. I felt weird not hating him anymore but he had saved my shoulder (haha made you think I was going to say life!) and judging from the conversation I had eavesdropped on, he was feeling guilty about landing me in the first place.

"Well?" He still hadn't answered my question.

"If I say yes, will you go to sleep?"

"No."

He shook his head and gave me a look.

"Well, I'll give you a maybe."

Gibbs remained somewhat stone – like. "Yes I'll forget it. Now go to sleep."

Just to see his reaction I replied, "What are you, my dad?"

He gave me that same odd look that he did back in the mall parking lot. "For now, yes, your name is Kelly Gibbs and you were in a motorcycle accident."

I tilted my head in thought and then covered up my wince of pain with a cough. "I've seen that name once somewhere…isn't you boat named Kelly?"

Once again, Gibbs nodded with the same weird look. I couldn't place the emotion.

There was a long pause of silence before I plucked up the courage to ask for some food. As predicted, he handed me the Chinese takeout the older man had brought him and then realizing I was completely immobile, started to feed me like a baby. My pride and self confidence were being hammered down like a nine inch nail into his stupid boat.

While I was chewing a particularly stubborn piece of chicken, Gibbs looked down into the container and was idly searching for the next piece to give me. "So, are you going to tell me about this abuse you've had?"

Crap. Not now.

I swallowed. "There's nothing much to say. Was abused. Grew up. Moved on."

"And you never bothered to tell anyone did you?" He was trying to make eye contact. I stared at my right hand.

"When it first happened I didn't even know what it was. I mean, I knew I didn't umm," I bite my lower lip to stop it from trembling too much. "I didn't like it. And as the years went on…there was beatings and things but they were only occasional, never too close together." I chewed on the next piece of food longer, expecting more questions. But Gibbs didn't press, just fed me. I murmured a soft thank you and reluctantly closed my eyes, drifting into sleep. I thought I felt some brief wetness on my cheek but I couldn't be sure.

AN – I am really sorry about you having to wait so long for this chapter but school was really busy and I have some camps coming up so I wanted to get a chapter out before then. Once again so sorry :(

Oh and the brief wetness is a possible kiss on the cheek….for some reason I didn't want to say kiss.

Feel free to review and yell at me about my updates…I feel so guilty.


	11. Chapter 11

When I woke up he was gone. It was at least seven in the morning and people were pacing down hallways at normal speed. Using a remote attached to the bed I called a nurse.

"Ah I see you're awake!" It was the same nurse from the other day. "Good now we can run some tests and -"

"Wait where's Gibbs?" My eyes must have bulged considerably because she stepped closer with an anxious air.

"Don't worry he'll be back as soon as he deals with those lawyers that came at him."

"What lawyers? What did they look like? Did they have accents?" One of the machines began to beep furiously next to me and I heard footsteps outside the door.

"Now now you just need to calm down young-"

"What did they LOOK like?" I snapped. My stomach was sinking.

"They sounded French I suppose now relax!" She patted my hand in comfort.

"I need to make a phone call now." Two other nurses entered the room, one carrying a plastic IV with liquid sloshing inside.

"What you need is rest." I gulped as they attached the IV to me and struggled to move.

"You don't understand I need to -"

"Shhhh this will help you sleep my dear"

That's when it went black.

AN- Four month old update :/ I apologize I really do. Not only that but it's short. Promise for a longer one next chapter which might be in Gibbs' POV and hopefully this week. Tweet me CMPotterMonster if you want me to update; harassment helps motivate me. My NCIS twitter is NCIS_Gibblette don't use it as much. Reviews tell me how many people read so do them and put this story on alert since I update slow.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N – once again, my apologies for my late updates but hopefully that summer is here, my creative juices will kick in and I can get this stories of mine finished. I'm not sure if how many of you guys put this story on alert so I'm going to put this notice up to see and if I get enough reviews to continue, I shall try my best to continue this stories. In fact I'll probably start prepping chapters now but I need reviews to know that people are reading so please just take a second to review otherwise this story may go under the complete status. And if this ends up being my last update, I thank you all for reading, I really do.


	13. Chapter 13

"Do you have any idea who I am?" the Frenchman hissed, business suit huffed up in aggravation. The short man looked out of place in the bullpen.

Gibbs simply looked at him. "Yes, you've mentioned the fact that you are Marcel Savard, an executive in French National Security several times. You failed to mention that you are also suspected of working for some black market weapons dealers and were charged with several accounts of business fraud." His blue eyes were cool and emotionless.

Savard smiled politely, a smile that did not reach his eyes. "Charged and found innocent on all accounts as you very well know. Unless you wish to challenged your so called flawless judicial system, Agent Gibbs."

"Either way, you can add pre-meditated murder onto that list. We had an eye-witness that can place your hire at the scene of the crime."

"An eye-witness that is currently in the hospital and therefore quite incapable of providing an adequate account of what she might have seen that night. In fact, I do believe it is partially thanks to your team that she is in the state she is now. Both mental and physical." Marcel's accent became more and more pronounced as he exchanged heated words with the head agent.

A brief flash of guilt crossed Gibbs' eye but just as quickly as it had appeared, his eyes grew steely once more. It was, however, Tony, that answered for him. "Well there is the fact that she ran away from perfectly willing witness protection, held a bus driver at gunpoint and caused several hundreds of dollars of damage to a Victoria's Secret store. That contributed a _lot_ to your granddaughter's current state of affairs." He stepped out of his desk, a poker face expression glued like a mask on his countenance ashe defended his boss.

Savard's lawyer laid a cautioning hand on his shoulder. "Even so, my client has every right to visit his granddaughter and check on her condition as her emergency contact."

"Your client also has motive to cause her harm to benefit this case –"

"More harm than you have already inflicted, Agent Gibbs?" The lawyer stated frankly.

"Enough," the NCIS director snapped stiffly from her bird's eye very of the situation. "Agent Gibbs, you will escort Mr. Savard to the hospital currently treating his granddaughter and you, Mr. Savard," she glared at the man like a hawk, "will be thoroughly searched. Your cell phone will be confiscated to that you may not contact anyone during the trip or in the hospital. If there is a hint of foul play, you will be arrested for interfering with a federal investigation. Are we clear, sir?"

The foreigner just smiled. "Crystal…. Director Jenny Shepard." He bowed dramatically. "Pleasure to meet you at last."

Gibbs' eye twitched. No one told Savard the director's name, let alone her full name. It was obvious the man wasn't to be trusted.

A/N – I tried. T.T blasted muse, where art thou?


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